Start Again
by Xomee
Summary: A cowardly healer looking for her courage. BaschxOC eventually
1. Mountain's Morning

Bitter wind bit at the exposed flesh of those who dared take up shelter on the mountain. The temple hidden among frozen cliffs was home to many acolytes, and answer seekers. Those who had sought a temporary habitat, often found themselves staying longer, and longer, scholars seeking wisdom found faith, and strangers shifted into neighbors.

Like many of those around me, my home became a battle ground, love one's became lost and beloved places and things became mere memories. I came to this sacred mountain in hopes of fleeing the war. It seemed, however, that the war would touch every corner of Ivalice. A winding path to Hell, that seemingly endless scene of bloodshed did not let up from my heels. It was in my final retreat to Mt. Bur-Omisace that I found a reprieve.

I hold no remarkable talents; all that I have was built off hard work and a determined mind. It was only the need for healers that lead me to study white magicks, after continuous work, my skills have exceeded my own expectations. While I'm by no means the highest ranking healer, I'm not terribly far from it. The skill wasn't hard to pick up, and with wounded a plenty, practice was easy to come by.

We were short handed again, as we often are. Cries of pain blended together, bodies laid out on floor mats, and blotches of red and brown decorated the clothing of all those around. From the tips of my fingers to the dips in my elbows were painted a bloody picture of red. It seemed not long ago that that the slick liquid applied to my arms would have churned my stomach, and had my windpipe tighten. No longer was that so, two years of such experiences made sure of that.

"Ava, I'm here to relieve you of your shift." A younger healer spoke to me. He was quickly gaining skill and rising in rank just as quickly. The pristine white of his robes stood out against the dingy yellowed canvas of the tent wall behind him, and my own stained robes only added to the contrast.

"Thank you just let me finish here."

He nodded and left to work on his own tasks. The massive being beside me squirmed, his mangled wrist lying between two boards in my lap. His flattened nose and beady eyes scrunched together, the movement must have caused pain. The largeness of his belly made it difficult for me to gain a good hold on his damaged limb. Then, I wasn't very large myself and most grown humes could slip from my hold. However, I continued to splint the Squee's massive wrist as best I could, layer after layer of gauze.

The task was done and I washed my hands of the, now sticky, blood. Water and the towel stole the red color from my tanning skin. Though it was not a loss I found sorrow in.

The cold morning air pricked at my exposed skin as I stepped from the tent, more often than not I was assigned night shift, usually leaving just after dawn. I found my body tired, but my mind alert; heading to bed did not quite appeal to me at that moment.

Small stair ways and large landings made up much of the temple grounds. Groups of people gathered on the less used stairs, while some collected along the smooth stone walls of the landings. Most were enjoying the warmth of the sunlight, soaking in what they could before the cold air forced them inside.

The acolytes were wandering about in the morning light along the stone pathways, some beginning lectures and others bringing up debates. Refugees seeking shelter from frozen winds stood listening, most information going right over their heads. There were still those who understood, and often brought up topics of their own. It seemed no matter what level of education they held, the people seeking a home on this mountain side were eager to keep their minds from the cold, listing to whatever one was willing to say.

There was one acolyte, just next to me, who opened on a rather touchy subject.

"For what reason are we to believe that this war was begun?" An older acolyte, he had himself perched up on the stone wall's ledge, his arms spread wide, welcoming all to speak up.

The obvious reply came up: the dispute between Rozarria and the Empire. However that was not what the old scholar had in mind.

"Yes, yes, we're all well informed on the bad blood between these two nations, but what of Vayne's declaration of a world at peace? Seems a bit hypocritical, yes?" Murmurs of agreement came out, and the few hushed comments on the dislike for the Empire's famed Vayne. "Come now, doesn't anyone have anything to say?"

It was apparent that he did not care for leading the discussion and was hoping someone would take charge and speak up. Perhaps he was looking for an answer himself; then again he could just be looking to find out other's opinions so that he may base his own on what others felt.

"Vayne claims a world without war should come at the end of this war, yet how can a single nation so vast and so different ever hope to function?" A moogle moved his way to the front, determined to have his voice hear. "If a country is taken and its people broken it is not likely they'll get along well with their captors, kupo. How can anyone hope to bring such people who already dislike one another together, much less ones that hate each other?"

The old acolyte was delighted; he gave a small chuckle to this and raised his arms. "Anyone have an answer for our young friend?" He offered to the crowd.

"Perhaps he is not trying to change who the people, as they seem to think, but rather he is hoping to unite them." It was a young voice this time and boy appearing in his early teen's stepped forward. His clothing was not that of a refugee, but perhaps a traveler looking for rest before continuing to his destination, a rarity here, but not impossible. His hair was dark, a blackened metal color, and a young boy's face, maybe twelve or thirteen was placed in pale skin.

"I do not believe Vayne means as much harm as he brings, and though I may not support his methods I fully believe in his ideal." There was wisdom in this child's grey eyes, as if his soul were centuries older than the flesh which incased it. A glimmer from the boy's chest caught my eye, a piece of twisting silver dangled from his neck and at first I paid it no mind. However as the conversation grew, and the boy's passion came forth I found my mind wandering back to the intertwining metal. An eerie flash of red and black appeared in my head: an image of the Solidor flag.

I thought back to when I had watched Vayne give speech after speech, each one greeted with horrid shouts and yells, yet sent off with claps and words of admiration. Each argument quelled much in the same manner as this dark haired youth, though Vayne lacked sincerity in his face as this boy.

With one similarity down I began to note the others, my mind no longer on the word battle before me. There were other similarities I began to note, both were of dark haired appearances and striking gray eyes, though this boy's held more of childish innocence than the future ruler of the Empire. It was quite a large leap to take, traveling merchant's son to the youngest Solidor son, and I quickly realized how far I had allowed my mind to carry me.

Behind the boy there was a fidgety youth, in his late teens it seemed, of golden hair and dark skin from generations of baring the sun's rays. He seemed impatient, as if waiting for the discussion to be over so he could drag the dark haired boy off. He didn't have to wait long. It seemed the wise youth had won his opposition over. The blonde's expression softened as his friend turned to him; the younger must have smiled because the blond smiled broadly before the two walked off, up the steps to the Gran Kiltias Anastasis, four others joined them on their ascent.

The acolyte next to me chuckled in his raspy voice, "So you've noticed as well."

"What have I noticed?" My gaze left their backs departing to the scaley teacher to my right.

"The youth has quite the mind for logic. And such a way with words, one would wonder if it was genetic." He walked away with those words, leaving me to wonder if he led me on purpose or was simply pulling my leg. Sleep seemed like a nice option at that point.


	2. Ashes, Ashes

The scene before me was straight from a horror play. Bodies of the wounded and dead lay blended together, there were no able bodies left to help dig out those sill alive. We, healers, were left to sift though them all. Once white, crisp and clean robes were now stained brown and red, reminders of those lost and those in pain. On my own person it painted my face, and matted my hair, like some morbid war paint.

I, along with many other healers, had a blade turned upon me. As Healers few of us knew anything of combat, we were at the mercy of the soldiers. It seemed some hundred hours had passed till the Archedians left, when in reality it couldn't have been longer than two hours. The metal foreigners lined back on their ships, and the remaining refugees and acolytes began to collect the pieces left of the temple and camp.

I had suffered injuries, though they were minor compared to the lost limbs and burns that surrounded me. A slash had been delivered to my side, a quick murmur and swift flow of mist had stitched it closed. A cut above my eye seemed to pulse, the blood trying to beat down the scabbing and run down the left side of my face.

My side was aching, and my head throbbed, there was a bleeding cut over my left eye. I had healed them only to the point that they were no longer an immediate threat, there were others to tend to and I could only cast curing magicks so many times in a single day.

The Mist can only pass through a body so many times before it shuts the body down. The basic effects are similar to that of alcohol. Drink too much and you will poison yourself; drink just over your limit and the following morning is sure to be painful.

We continued our work even without the use of magicks; we used other tools in its place: wrappings, water and knives. The day wore into night, and the number of healers slowly decreased. A handful or so came in after the evening meals, but we still seemed to be lacking.

It wasn't until later that night, when my body felt exhausted, and my skin stretched too thin that I heard of the reason for the attack; the lord Larsa's presence, as well as the fate of the Gran Kiltias had fallen to; his death by the hand of the Judge. I had wanted to thank those who had killed the judge responsible, but my body had reached its limits, I could do nothing else till morning. Begrudgingly I slunk off to my own modest tent, ignoring my usual routine of washing, and changing, and slipped into my blankets for a nights rest.

My rest was far from peaceful; haunting memories emerged in my dreams. Images I had buried now resurfaced after years of peace. I woke many times from the sight of fire and snow, old thoughts mixed with new; and dried blood blended with fresh.

It wasn't until the early hours of the morning, that I have up all hope of sleep, and instead sought to help those still suffering.

The morning's air was gray as I moved about the charred and torn remains of the camp. Bodies had slowly moved to makeshift tents for healing. The dead were left in the white snow for the time being. It was in one of those gray, ashen tents I took up work, along side those who were on shift from the night before. All faces were sadden, dull, and their ears rung with laughter from death's hallowed throat. Some were laid on small floor mats, while others were cluttered on the floor. Most damaging of the wounds had been seen too, but bones remained broken, limbs could not be replaced, and flesh was still scorched.

My own injuries throbbed from the abuse of my movements, but I refused to give in to the selfish demands of my own body. There was no longer anything serious about my cuts, so there was hardly any need to rest. Not that rest would have come easy to me.

So I spent the cold morning wrapping, bandaging, and comforting the wounded. While my actions were bent on nursing those around me, my thoughts were filled with images of the group from the day before, along with the things I wished to say. How do you show gratitude without sounding odd and out of place?

Though that was not the only worry on my mind; I had a request I wished to ask of them, something which had been lingering on my thoughts all that morning. I can only hope it will be well received, for I do not believe I could face the mountain and her fiends on my own. If they had left the night before I don't know what I would have done.

It wasn't until the warming light of the sun reached the small tent that I left in search of the party of people. I never caught a good look at most of them, but I do remember the blond boy's face. As discouraging as my small amount of information was I set out all the same. I knew two of seven faces, not exactly a hopeful tally.

My search started at the campfires where the early risers were gathering for the morning's meal, my youth was not among them. There was however, a fierce looking viera and a scared blonde man. The two looked over me silently as if gauging my intentions. It was odd that anyone would be suspicious of a healer; perhaps these two had something to be suspicious of.

The arrival of a third person attracted my attention. He was dressed in rather extravagant clothing for someone making a trip though the mountain's snow and they were fairly clean. His well groomed appearance had nearly made me nearly ashamed of my own rather ragged appearance; cut forehead, bloodied and dirtied robes, and an injured side. I must look horrible though his eyes. Yet he smiled at me, a rather charming one at that.

"Might we help you?"

"Ah… No, I was just looking for someone, though he doesn't appear to be here."

"Best of luck then."

"Thank you." I nodded my head and he took a seat next to the viera. As I went to leave the scared man spoke up.

"Who is it you are seeking?"

Well there was the question I was hoping to avoid. I didn't right out know his name so I couldn't give it, and as far as a description went, well what if these were his friends? It wouldn't seem good if I were asking for him, yet didn't know him.

"Do not worry; I'm sure he'll show up." With that I excused myself to continue searching. I felt the prickle of eyes on my neck until I had rounded the corner.


	3. Move Along

O 3 O;;

-after an age has passed another chapter appears-

Hello, hello. I'm sorry for the wait, but I don't care for my chapters to appear unbeta'd, cause well... They're a pile of illegable words thrown together with nice metaphores.

But yes~! I love your reviews, and I'll get working on that 'scared' thing. xD And, well the other two chapters were more like, mood setters, and to let you know exactly where we were in the game, as well as a bit of information about Ava. So she's not another 'mysterious past' character.

Noon had come and gone, the cooking fires for the mid-day meal were put out, and the people began once more on the clearing of the ash, charred wood, and bodies. My search was becoming frantic, and I was wearing myself thin with my constant movement from one area to another. Time was racing against me and I hadn't stopped for food, merely grabbed a bit of bread and cheese; however I had stopped by the healing tents, to inform someone of my plans. I wasn't so irresponsible as to disappear without a word.

Though, I had lied to them to get away; to keep the many healers from asking me to stay. This was not the first time I had left with nothing but lies and innocent eyes. The sight of a once beautiful and peaceful city turned into an ashy grave brought up an ugly ball of fear in my stomach. It reminded me of how fragile my life is and I ran from it. It was easy to find someone willing to escort me to another location, so long as I supplied enough gil. The easiest, not to mention safest, was to go to the local clan, but with no clan in the area I was limited in my choices If I was to walk the mountain paths again I would prefer to do so with a group who could handle the beast and elementals we should surely face.

So I sought out this boy I recalled, hoping he was with the group rumored to be traveling to Archedia. He fit the description of one of them, or so I forced myself to believe. Then there was also a viera that was supposed to be traveling with them, that would also narrow my search.

They were just leaving when I came across them, just stopping in front of the chocobo stall to discuss, or perhaps argue, over something. The blond boy was speaking with another light haired child with her hair in twin tails, the viera was standing towards the back. I recognized the three from earlier that morning, and my stomach twisted itself into nervous knots. Now I felt foolish for not telling them of my search for their young companion. It certainly would have saved me the trouble of combing through every area of the camp and the temple grounds.

"It seems… You did need to worry about it." I spoke up waving my hand in the direction of the blond boy. The scarred man turned first, then the viera, and gradually the rest of the group.

The blond youth I spent so long looking for was staring back at me, a light of recognition appeared in his yes; though I doubt he truly remembered me. He might have glanced over me, but I doubt any more attention than that was directed towards me. The girl at his side caught my stare at the boy.

"Did Vaan get into trouble again?" She asked.

"No." I shook my head at her question. "His was the only face I was able to remember as part of your group. Though I was told a viera traveled with you as well." She seemed relieved that her friend was not in any trouble and glanced over towards the exotic woman

A hume woman stepped forward; there was a sense of authority about her. "What is it you want?"

I held up my hands in a position of surrender. A sharp sting in my fingers reminded me of the bits of glass, rock and other rubble imbedded in my flesh. "I've heard you're headed to Archedia, and I was hoping you would allow me to accompany you."

The woman didn't seem to care for the idea of my joining them. She did not voice her opinion; however, instead she looked to her companions for their opinions. The scarred man and viera from before didn't seem to mind either way, though you can hardly tell with the viera. The two younger members seemed to enjoy the idea, and the man with the well kept appearance seemed to be looking for a reason to either allow me to join them, or keep me here, I wasn't quite able to tell with him.

The blond boy from the day before spoke up. "Where did we meet exactly?"

"Yesterday, though I wouldn't call it a meeting. It was while your young friend was debating that I saw you."

"Oh, you mean Larsa." The group's attention quickly zoned in on him. Disappointment over his loose tongue clearly showing on the faces I could see. The woman in front of me, and the scarred man behind her had both turned to stare at him, while the viera woman and neat man looked off to the side as if to say they weren't associated with the blond boy. The girl at his side with blond pig tails hit his arm with a look of disbelief.

"Larsa, the youngest Soilidor, brother to Vayne." Attention was again directed to me.

Vaan nodded, looking almost unsure of his answer.

"Not that it matters now." The man with the well kept clothing spoke up. "The Lord and Judge are gone, and it's time for us to move on. What have you to offer us?" His hands had rested on his gun holster while he spoke.

"I don't have much in the way of gil, but I've become quite good at white magicks. I'll act as a personal healer to any in your group should you need it. Other than that, what few possessions I owned were lost in the raid." I held my breath and waited for his decision. There would always be other groups, but I admit I had my hopes set on this one.

"Just keep up, and try not to get into any trouble." He turned and continued down the path they'd started: the viera, scarred man, and woman falling instep behind him, leaving the two children and myself trailing behind.

The girl smiled at him, there was hardly any height difference between her and I, "my name's Penelo, and this," she tugged on Vaan's elbow, "this is Vaan as you've heard. What'd your name?"

I smiled back at her, "Penelo, and Vaan." I tested out their names, looking at their faces as I did so. "My name is Ava."

"So Ava," Vaan spoke up. "You're one of the medics here." He gestured at my clothing; I was in the robes with the healer's insignia. "Do you know any other magicks other than white, or how to use a weapon?"

"What Vaan means is," Penelo added in. "Do you know how to fight?" We weren't trailing so far behind now; actually we were only a few paces behind the scarred man, and the viera woman: the neat man and young woman were leading the party. I saw the viera's ear twitch and the scarred man's head shift to the side, both were listening in.

"No." I answered honestly. "I have nothing but my healing to offer to your group."

"Then you should probably stay closer to the middle of everyone." Vaan took a step back while he said this, placing Penelo and I slightly a head of him. As if a step or two could offer a world of protection from the fiends on the path. It was a sweet gesture all the same. "To, you know, keep away from the monsters." He finished.

The wind and cold were more bitter out on the pass than they were in the camp or on the temple grounds. While I wasn't quite used such climate, I refused to complain. I was already feeling awkward about the arrangement, and I did not need anything to make the feeling worsen. To take my mind off the cold I spoke to Penelo.

"What are the names of your companions?" it took me a moment but I had realized that I was still referring to them by their appearances.

"Oh," Penelo spoke first. "Well there's Baltheir at the front with Ashe, and Basch and Fran are right in front of us." She pointed to each individual as their names came up, and I filed the knowledge away. Fran and Basch nodded when their names came up, Balthier and Ashe seemed too far ahead of us to hear what was said. At least I didn't make a fool of myself by calling Balthier "Clean Man," or "Neat Man". I'm not sure I'd have lived that one down.


	4. Cold Paths

Hello, hello.

o w o;;

I will try to work on that. The whole repeating idea bit, and excess commas. I've always had trouble with commas and the whole repeating thing... Well I just don't notice it I guess. I will work on these, just keep letting me know about them. Helps me grow as an author. W

But yes! Thank you all for your lovely reviews~! They make my day. 8D

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There was no longer any talk amongst us, the winds made it hard to hear, and we needed every forewarning of fiends we could get. From time to time the snarling of wolves; or clattering of hollow bones alerted us to the dangers of the path.

My word was proven true; I was no good at combat and ended up staying towards the rear with Fran and Baltheir; casting cure spells and bringing sight back to those caught in a blinding spell whenever needed. It wasn't too difficult a task as this group seemed skilled enough for there to be little to no need for healing.

It was only when the number of fiends grew too great that more spells were needed. It was difficult to communicate with the others, distracting them during a fight did not seem like a wise choice. I often found myself sending more mist to them than was necessarily. This taking more time and concentration, neither of which was easy to obtain for me, I was used to dying screams, and still movements, not blurred movements and flashed signals.

We had only just finished a rather small battle on a frozen river when I began to feel the effects of my casting. It was mid-afternoon, and I'd hardly stopped casting since we left the camp. While these spells weren't particularly powerful they were frequent, making up for the lack of power. With the constant flow of mist through the inside of my body and the winter's brutal attack on the outside, I was not sure how much longer I would hold up to it. I did not state my concern out loud. I already felt like something of a burden, there was no need to further enforce that thought.

We had yet to eat, as there had been no place secure enough or lacking in fiends for us to eat. Traveling nearly all day with no food was hard, even on a seasoned traveler. The groups pace began to slow, movements grew sluggish, we could not continue as we were.

"We must rest." Ashe stated. "We need to find some place close by to camp."

The howls, snarls, and clattering of bones grew faint, the stone walls on either side hid most of the blue expanding sky and for a moment, in that shady little clearing, tension had eased, lifted away as if a great curtain from the stage had been raised.

"Seems a safe enough place to make camp." Baltheir spoke. Though it was not as if we had many other options, the afternoon's sun was slowly fading; the paint of evening began to show. We dared no travel in the dark, and with little knowledge of what lay ahead we couldn't look over such an opportunity.

Spoken words of agreement met Baltheir's statement and we each set off to the various chores needed to pull the camp together.

Making camp that evening was interesting. There weren't any tents or elaborate bed rolls that encased you in its blankets, only simple blankets to go over the coats we were already wearing.

"We look for some place around the cliffs to keep the snow off us, and we'll sleep on some rock slab." Penelo explained when I questioned her on it. "There's not much need for all those heavy clothes and blankets once we're out of the mountains. We only bought these big coats so we wouldn't freeze."

It made sense but due to their lack of shelter and blanket a large fire had to be built to make up for the lost heat.

With my clumsy handling of Penelo's knife I could not clean or cut anything, and with my lack of fighting skill I was assigned to tending the fire. Unpacking the little gear we had was left to Vaan and Penelo: Basch, Baltheir, and Ashe were attempting to find a wolf we could use for dinner, and Fran was to clean and skin said wolf once they returned.

Fires as a general rule, don't require a sharp eye to keep watch on them. After feeding the flames a couple of branches I went to picking out the bits of debris from my hands and knees. I had finished with one of my hands and began to move to my next when a large log fell on the fir.

I let out an undignified 'ieep' and the hand I was tending flew to my throat and the other to my knee.

"I am sorry; I didn't mean to startle you." Basch sat the rest of the wood to my side before taking a seat next to me. I wasn't sure what to say, but the lack of conversation bothered me.

"Did you find a wolf?" I asked to chase the silence off.

"More than one," the corners of his mouth tilted up." Unfortunately for Baltheir. Seems even he can't talk his way out of a wolf's bite."

"Then I should g-" I moved to get up, but his hand on my wrist kept me still.

"It was nothing a small potion couldn't help. And it seems you have your own injury to tend to."

His eyes had turned down to study the palm he had captured.

"I would hardly call those injuries, they're just scrapes." He hummed in his throat and picked up my other hand.

"But they are injuries none the less. How did you get them, I don't recall you falling."

"It was during the confusion."

He seemed to have caught my meaning and let it drop. Dropping one hand he began cleaning the other of dirt and rock. Despite the size of his hands and fingers, he made quick work of my palm. It felt nice to have someone else take care of me.

"Are there any others?" he asked.

"Yes, my knees. But I can take care of them."

My answer came out faster than I intended: my face heated at the thought of him so close to my legs.

He seemed to have had the same thought, as a faint tint of pink came to his cheeks.

"Of course, I'll leave you to that."

"Thank you."

Basch smile and nodded, threw another log on the fire, and left me to my picking. The heat had yet to leave my face.

We were treated to a dinner of roasted wolf. Penelo and Vaan chatted to me about the warm desert city they were from, and how the snow was such a wonder. Rabanaster seemed like an interesting city, a thriving oasis amongst the harsh desert sands. I hoped I would have the chance to see it.

Packing camp was far easier than setting it up. Blankets were rolled back up, a bucket of snow thrown on the fire, and traces of our presents were erased. Everyone insisted that everything look as it had before we came.

I suppose it wasn't anything to fuss over, as there weren't many signs that we had camped there, it was simply something odd that I noted.

I had woken up aching, and walking only made my muscles ache more. To keep my mind off my sore legs I had been thinking back on the events that led up to my current placement, side stepping the major tragedy. There was only one fact I was slightly hung up on.

"Penelo, can I ask you something?"

She looked over at me, Vaan looked up as well. "Sure, ask away."

"Why was Larsa Solidor traveling with you?"

She opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again, perhaps thinking better of her answer.

"Well, we met him along the way, and he said he had business with the Grand Kiltias. So he just came along."

She was nervous about her answer, and seemed to be lying, if only slightly. Though, I didn't know her well enough to be sure of that fact. All the same I let it go. It was not as if it were an important fact for me.

Another long day had gone by, and my frozen hands had taken refuge in my sleeves. Hardly any fiends had attacked so there had been no need for me to cast anything, and without the mist flowing though me I was beginning to feel the freeze.

It was a while before the temperature warmed, the snow grew thinner, and little patches of earth sprang forward, gradually increasing in numbers and size.

"We are nearly out of the mountains; once we reach the plains we shall find a place for camp." Basch answered, he seemed least affected by hunger, as if he were used to going long periods without out nourishment.

It had been so long since I felt anything other than frozen winds and numbing cold. The warm air felt sticky, to my skin, though there was little humidity. Off went layers of clothing: jackets, shirts, and other fabrics used to keep hold of the body's warmth, all discarded on the side of the path. It was becoming much too warm to have continued in such apparel, and we had yet to find a place for camp that day.

I remembered the plains; it was only two years before that I wandered across them myself. Lost and homeless I could think of nothing else to do but leave and continue to make my way south. The closer I was to Rozaria, the further I was from Archedia, or so my thought process went, ironic, considering now I am seeking to go to the Empire. I'm starting to follow the old saying, "The closer you are to danger, the further you are from harm."


	5. Into the Jungle

Sorry for the delay, things have been weird and busy.

Annnnnd I'm in desperate need of a beta, as you might can tell from the quality of this chapter. D: Hope things aren't so bad you can't enjoy it.

The cold biting winds of the rift behind us and the trees of the Golmore Jungle slowly came to view. My companions seemed to feel more at ease in the warmth, and with their comfort came my trouble. Such heat, I don't recall such displeasure from the first trip. My skin felt itchy and sweat had already begun collecting on my neck. Discarding my outer robes did little to ease the heats effect and I couldn't help but dread the trip though the sands of Dalmaska.

Deep green seemed to fill my vision only disturbed by the thick vertical columns of brown. The trees created a sort of arched hallway. The suspended stone path dictated which way the hall would turn, the living wall simply following its direction. No rails guarded the edge of the path and the sudden drop always remained in the front of my mind as we walked.

As the hours passed on I began to lag behind. When it would come to my attention I would speed up to remain with the group. This however did little to fool those I was with. As I fell behind once more I noticed Fran linger for me.

"The heat effects you."

"I'm used to the cold air of the rift. I didn't imagine it would be this warm."

Shifting my remaining clothing around, I attempted to relieve myself of some of the heat building in the threads. It had worked, though only for a moment.

"Baltheir believes you will save us gil. The Lady Ashe expects you to be a hindrance."

It wasn't a surprised to find that Ashe didn't care for me; after all she avoided anything to do with me, but to hear it out loud had me flushing.

"You think she'll try to leave me behind?"

"Only if you prove you cannot keep pace."

Finally when the trees were dense and my legs felt they could no longer carry me, we stopped and pitched camp. We were on one of the many elevated roads that filled the jungle, and we were careful not to place our bedding too close to the edge.

Ashe and Baltheir were arguing. Though the argument seemed a bit one sided, her voice occupying most of the debate air.

I couldn't hear the exact words used, and with the two still so close to camp, escaping the tension wasn't an option. Penelo had left with Fran to retrieve more wood for the, small; fire and Vaan looked as though he were trying his hardest to not listen. Only Basch seemed undisturbed by the feud breaking out; though as far as I knew the man's expression rarely changed.

The voices died off, and Ashe reappeared. She may not have stormed in as most women did when angry, but she held herself straighter, her shoulders squared off and her stops seemed stiff. Her anger was displayed with more dignity than most.

Baltheir, however, strolled back to the fire as though nothing had happened.

When it became apparent that Ashe was not coming back to sit by the flames Basch rose to follow her, only to be stopped by Baltheir's warning.

"Wouldn't do that, metal's too hot to be touched if you catch my meaning."

Dinner was quickly taken care of with the return of Fran and Penelo, the camp was pulled together, and Ashe made her reappearance just as the last of the bed rolls were laid out.

As everyone collected back around the fire the youngest of the group spoke first.

"You think we could make a stop in Rabanaster on our way back?" Vaan asked.

"We could sleep in actual beds for once." Penelo chimed in.

The elders of the group seemed to consider it. Basch and Fran remained quiet to allow the pirate and the lady to make the choice.

In the end Baltheir spoke up, seeming tired of the indecision.

A proper bath seems over due now that the cold is gone our stench is thawing out."

Their faces lit up at the thought of staying in their home town again.

"But no more than a few days. The longer we put this off the worse it'll get"

Ashe appeared put off by Baltheir making the decision, if the glare she sent him were any indication.

The two didn't need to hear anymore, launching into conversation with each other. Names and places I did not recognize were mentioned and though I couldn't fully follow their conversation I gladly soaked in their joy.

Dinner continued on, slow chewing and small comments were shared. When all were finished night had fallen, and the trees seemed more menacing than before. Each settled into their beds and I was forced to relook at the once uninviting thing blankets. Useful for all sorts of weather it seemed, even if I had been forced to sleep in every layer of clothing I had when the cold was at its worse.

Waking the next morning I found my skin sticky with perspiration, and I had kicked off the single blanket that had been my covers. It felt odd to know I had slept without any form of covering, and the sudden need to check for purple toes arose. Quickly pushing it back, I sat up, looking over at Basch who was already up.

"Morning." I greeted.

"Good Morning."

Our words had been hushed, mere whispers to keep from waking our sleeping companions. Fran's ear twitch in our direction and I felt sure that she had woken, despite our attempts.

Dawn was only just arriving, giving the thick jungle an orange glow. The scene entirely different from what I had seen the day before. Almost serene in the early morning light.

The silence grew, and I felt the need to busy myself in place of spoke words. Rising as quietly as I could I began folding up the two blankets that were to be my bed for the following weeks.

Basch didn't move from his resting places against one of the logs we had used to rail the edges of the path, only turning his head back towards the road.

"Did you not sleep well?" I asked to ease the uneasiness I felt in the silence.

"It has not come to me easily these last few years."

I'm sorry."

"You've no reason to be."

"Yes, but being sleepless cannot be pleasant. I wish there were something I could do for you."

"He smiled. and I found I rather liked the sight.

Thank you for the kind thought, but I do not believe it can be cured with magick."

"Still if you think of anything I can do let me know."

It didn't take long before the rest of our group began to wake, each rising and folding their beds into neat little bundles. Save for Vaan who couldn't seem to manage folding his blankets evenly, each time ending up with more of a wad than a small stack. On his third attempt Penelo stepped in, small burst of giggles giving away her amusement at his misfortune.

Vaan responded with simply "Folding's a girl thing anyway."

Basch and Baltheir made offended faces before Ashe spoke up.

"And I suppose men are only to do the fighting then." Her hand rested lightly on the hilt of her sword, a silent reminder of what she was capable.

"N-No, it's just folding involves clothes whic-"

"Stop now, while you're still ahead." Baltheir interrupted. "And remember, we're all on the same side, no used shrinking our numbers ourselves. The fiends will try hard enough, no point making it easy for them."

With the blankets back in their bag, camp was packed and a small meal of smoked meat was handed out. Though this mean was to be eaten while we walked; apparently we had lost time the day before and Ashe was more than anxious to make it up.

The jungle was not easy on me. Between the large amount of magicks I had to cask to keep out group from falling apart, and the heat I felt nearly ready to collapse. I savored each and every break; always the first to sit and the last to rise. It wasn't until several days after entering the Golmore jungle that I was able to consistently keep up with the group without having to focus.

The rest of the jungle passed quietly, small conversations were held, but hardly anything to report on, save that Ashe and Baltheir did not appear to be on speaking terms.


End file.
